Beauty and the Beast
by project-jay89
Summary: Theirs is a tale as old as time- enemies locked in battle to the bitter end, forever caught in a vicious cycle of death and rebirth. Cursed. This time the cycle will be broken.
1. Chapter 1

**Synopsis: **Theirs is a tale as old as time- enemies locked in battle to the bitter end, forever caught in a vicious cycle of death and rebirth. Cursed. This time the cycle will be broken.

**Timeframe: **Set as an alternative story to Twilight Princess. In order to enjoy this tale, take what you know about that game and throw it right out the window.

**Author's Note:** Over the years I tried and failed continuously to write what I saw as a fanfiction that I was happy with. This is far from perfect. This is far from what I think I have the potential to _some day_ do. That said, this story got stuck in my head and I felt it needed to be told. For what it is, enjoy and trust that I'm going to take you on a journey where things may not make sense at first, but they'll be clear when the time comes. 

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**Beauty and the Beast**

* * *

_**Part 1: The King Is Dead**_

_The king is dead, long live the queen_. Chanting in the streets, at once a time to mourn and a time to celebrate. It left a bitter taste in the mouth of the last living royal, a slight girl of fair hair and the tender age of eighteen. _Zelda_, her mother had spoken so reverently at her birth... only moments before she herself had bled out and left her, the first in a long line of deaths that paved the way to the princess being not the first heir to the throne, but the _only_ heir. Two brothers had fallen before her; the eldest to an arrow they spoke of as a mistake during a hunting trip. Rumors said differently. The death of William had left her parents in tears. The loss of their second son, Alistair, only a year later had devastated the family. _He _had died from a rare, incurable disease. To this day Zelda could see him laid out on his bed, gasping for breath while his body deteriorated and bed sores tormented his weak form.

One morning he simply didn't wake up.

By then they'd already suffered the loss of the queen as well and the king was beside himself in his grief. Smiles were rare, laughter was even rarer. When her father finally passed, it had come as a relief. A man as tortured as he deserved that rest even if it left her as the last living member of what had once been such a strong, happy family.

Now she would be queen, though still princess until her coronation. First they would have to lay her father to rest and that was a task she did not envy herself _or_ the grave keeper. One week of mourning, then she would be crowned and life would forever change. No, that was a lie. Life had already changed. They said that what didn't kill you made you stronger, but the princess was hardly sure if that was the case. Stronger, no. Colder? Yes. After a while one started to become immune to death, after all. 

* * *

Every time she read of funerals in books, they were always on the side of a hill on a cold, dreary day. On the day of her father's funeral the sun shone so brightly that even under her parasol she was forced to use a pristine, white handkerchief to mop the sweat from her brow. Summer was at its height and she could hear birds tweeting in the trees even as the priest spoke prayers to the goddesses and Hylia, stood upon display as she was in front of her father's casket in the middle of Hyrule Castle Town. A royal funeral was a _spectacle_ after all. Her father's corpse was the main attraction but she was the side show. Everyone wanted to see the princess cry. Not because they lacked the compassion to care for her loss, but because they felt her passions, above all, should show. She was supposed to fall to her knees and _wail_. Except she... couldn't.

Dried eyes gazed at the ornate stone in which she knew her father to be contained within. If she pushed back the cover, she'd see him one last time. Her fingers twitched, clutched the handle of her parasol tighter and she exhaled. One, two, three. She didn't have the strength to do it. No more dwelling on the dead. Not like _that_.

Propriety dictated that she remain put, and so Zelda _did._ She stayed there until the last spectator had left. She stayed there until even the priest, having put a kindly old hand to her shoulder, walked off as well. She stayed there until finally, she made an about turn on the high heel of her black boot and strode off. Armor clanked then soldiers stepped forward to begin the long process of transporting the heavy container to the royal mausoleum. Zelda didn't look back.

She didn't look back. Not even as her heels clicked a vicious rhythm across the detailed patterns beneath her feet, not even as she lifted her black skirts just enough to climb the white steps to the gates of Hyrule castle, crossed the bridge... stepped through the second set of gates. The courtyard looked far too cheerful for what had just transpired and she set her jaw firm. She was _alone_. Her father had made the worst betrayal in giving up when he still had one child living that _needed_ him. The fool. The old, senile, _loving_ fool. By the Goddesses she was going to miss him.

Grief was such a curious thing. One could tell themselves that they were fine, that they were used to it all and then without warning it would hit. Like a tidal wave sweeping across the Great Sea, it would hit and take all one's rationality with it. _Strength_; a word she held so much importance in and yet here she was fleeing past the entrance hall and down to the dungeons so that servants and soldiers alike wouldn't see their soon-to-be queen break down. The dungeons were empty. The only ones down there to see her cry were the mice.


	2. Chapter 2

**Author's Note:** As you can see, I'm not much worred about the timeline. I needed some artistic license to bring this tale to life, of course.

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**Beauty and the Beast**

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_**Part 2: The Prisoner Of Basement Two**_

Two days to coronation. The castle was still garbed in black for mourning. Sat at her father's desk, _ her desk_, Zelda sat straight backed and stared dispassionately down at the still sealed letter in front of her. It bore the seal of Labrynna, the land across the Great Sea. She knew it was from the queen regarding her son. Her father had been in contact with Ambi over the prospect of an arranged marriage- one Zelda could see no sense in. Prince Anton was a pompous ass with barely a brain under all his silky, wavy hair. He was not worthy to be a ruler of Labrynna, much less be allowed to sit at her side in Hyrule.

Zelda reached out with her jaw set firm and an expression if grim determination while she dipped her quill in ink and wrote upon a piece of parchment with the royal seal set in the letterhead. A sprinkle of fairy dust and it was dry. Folding it, slender fingers placed it within an envelope, dripped wax onto the flap and sealed it with her ring. "Take this to a messenger. To be delivered to Labrynna- the queen." She intoned. There was simply no way she was going to marry silly Anton.

"Of course, princess." The maid curtseyed.

Standing, Zelda smoothed the front of her skirts. The letter had unsettled her. Clearly another walk in the dungeons would be required to ease the burdens of her heavy heart. There was something about the cold, damp loneliness that made her feel... free. Ironic for a place to hold the wicked to be able to set the burdens of the innocent at ease.

* * *

She'd never dared to step further than the first basement. Her father had warned her that below that was... something unpleasant. Now her father was dead and no one was there to chasten her for her curiosity. Zelda reached out and- locked. No matter. Her father's keys had already been given to her and now she could fish them out- trying key after key until finally the lock clicked and the door swung open.

Beyond it was darkness.

Zelda stepped in. So quiet was it that the very sound of her heavy skirts dragging across the floor sounded almost too loud to her ears. She winced and forced herself to remember that she was _alone_. Except she wasn't. As her eyes adjusted, through the dark she could make out a shape. A lump; large and dirty and, by the Goddess, but it was _breathing_. She shuddered and made to back away until she could too see that the creature was contained behind bars of the purest _white._ As she neared them, the princess could see that they glowed gold so faintly that it could barely be seen. Magic. Powerful magic.

"S' not nice t' not say hello..." The lump rasped and shifted. The very effort of moving seemed too much and immediately the man took a rasping breath and coughed. Something metal rattled. Not only was he behind bars of holy magic, but he was chained to that corner.

Zelda swallowed thickly and opened her mouth, but found it impossible to say anything. She snapped it shut again.

"F' y're here, s' tha' mean th' ole king s' dead?" Orange eyes peered at her through the darkness.

The princess looked over the man once more. He seemed to weak to be a danger, yet clearly he was in this odd solitary confinement for a reason. "What reason have you to care, prisoner? Ah... or was it that my father was your only means of survival? If so, I pity you, for you shall not be receiving meals any further."

The man set his cracked, dry, grey/green lips firm. Yet even anger seemed too much and in the end he sighed, turning his eyes from her. "Y' th' pri'cess." It wasn't a question. "D' you feel i' yet? Th' voices..." He swallowed hard- his throat far too parched. "...Do'n listen t' them." His head of shocking red hair, matted and long, shook slowly to emphasize his point. "Do'n listen t' them."

Zelda fled.


	3. Chapter 3

**Author's Note:** I would like to thank both people who gave me such wonderful reviews on chapters one and two! Those reviews mean the world to me and inspire me to keep going!

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**Beauty and the Beast**

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_**Chapter 3: Voices**_

Zelda couldn't quite forget about the man in the basement. His words haunted her through the late afternoon, into the evening and through the night. Crazy. He was just crazy- unhinged from his time in captivity. There was little she could do for him and perhaps death would be a mercy. Though was starvation an appropriate way to die? It lacked compassion towards a fellow mortal and a very basic need. Starving was a slow, torturous death. No, she couldn't subject any man to that and she, the only one who knew of him, had a duty to ensure that he did _not_ suffer... no matter what heinous crimes he may have committed. She was not without compassion. She was not.

Early morning dawned and with it she had to steel her nerves for both her impending coronation the next day and a more pressing concern; the man. There was something about him that set her on edge. Something unnatural. Something... evil? No, not evil. Traces remained and yet that man himself was _not_ the source of it. It had been contained within him, but to damn him for what he perhaps could not help was as good as condemning a son for the sins of his father. Unethical.

The princess stood outside the door in her black mourning dress for a good few minutes before she took the keys from about her neck and pushed it into the lock- turning. The cell beyond was dark, the only glow emitting from the blessed cage that her dirty songbird sat in.

She slid the tray beneath the bars and lit a wall sconce with oils and a match she'd brought.

In the farthest corner the man slept on. Zelda pursed her lips, turned and left.

* * *

"...a new dress, of course. Ceremonial- gold and white. What say you, my princess?" The gentleman raised an eyebrow then shifted awkwardly.

Zelda blinked. "Oh. Yes, of course." She swallowed thickly. "Thank you, Victor. You're dismissed." She barely noticed when the man bowed and retreated from the throne room. Since last night she'd felt unsettled. At first thinking it had been her encounter with the prisoner, Zelda had paid little attention to that slight unease. Overnight it had grown stronger. By morning she'd been feeling decidedly jittery. Now, nearing noon, it was unbearable. Wisdom, always present upon her hand and hidden by gloves, warned her of the presence of... what? Not even her piece of the Triforce rightfully knew.

"_Take it..."_

Two simple words, wispy as a leaf on the wind. It seemed as if someone had breathed against her ear. Zelda turned sharply. Nothing. No one. There was a guard stood by the door several feet away, but he hadn't moved. "Soldier, did you speak?"

The armour clad fellow saluted. "No, m'lady."

Zelda frowned.

"_Take it. One left... just one. Take it..."_

This time she stood and swept from the room, hands trembling. Mind racing, all she could think of were those haunting words the prisoner had spoken to her- a warning of voices. The voices had come. She swept down the halls and flung open the door to the dungeons, flying the steps with such speed that her hair flowed out behind her. When finally she descended upon the prisoner's cell in the second basement, she more resembled an avenging angel- wild and unhinged.

"What did you do to me?" Zelda hissed. "What did you do?!"

He looked better having had a meal and given water- no less dirty but his orange eyes proved far more alert. Still, he didn't move from the corner. "I warned you. Nothing more." No longer dry, his voice was deep- sinful as dark chocolate on a warm, summer day. "Your father took something from me. When he died, I should suspect it passed on to you. Didn't you ever once _think_ to question why I'm here, princess?"

Zelda swayed then grasped the cell bars in fear. One hand came up to rub over her face. "You've done wrong. Nothing more." She trembled. "My father was a good man! He would never-!" She halted up. Laughing... he was _laughing._

"Oh, princess. Even good men do terrible, _terrible_ things when they've lost practically their whole world. He lost everything except for _you_. Can you fault a man for wanting it all back?"

Zelda sobbed. "What did you do to him?!" Her fist collided with the wall to her left- dirtying the side of her glove.

The man shook his head. "I told you. I did _nothing_ but warn you. _Don't listen to the voices_."


	4. Chapter 4

**Author's Note:** I'm so sorry for the lateness of this update, guys! I've been quite sick with a head cold that turned into a just as nasty chest cold. I still have it, but I wanted to get a chapter to you anyways. As always, thank you so much for the kind reviews on the last. Love you all and your awesome encouragement!

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**Beauty and the Beast**

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**Chapter 4: Stolen Power**

Night fell over Hyrule and with it Zelda's sense of dread only increased. The voice seemed stronger at night. She had ignored it as long as she could after leaving the dungeons and her unsettling conversation with the red headed prisoner- closing herself into her room and begging the staff to leave her be, citing a sickness she was confident would pass by the next morning. Pass... right. She knew that was a lie.

They asked, concerned, if she wished to postpone her coronation. Zelda declined their kind but unwarranted offers. She was strong and she could handle herself for the sake of her people. Hyrule needed a solid ruler; someone sat properly on the throne. They needed a queen and _not_ a princess. The term princess, as she was the sole heir, implied 'still in training'. Zelda was no such thing. She'd _long_ been ready for her place. Ascension to her was only natural. Even if the cause of it still left her mourning.

Her father... she wanted him now more than ever. Questions had solidified in her mind and she desperately needed answers to them before the voice drove her mad. The voice her father had somehow knowingly carried the burden of. The voice her father had stolen from someone else. The voice. No, the _curse_. It was some sort of curse. It had to be. It was too evil otherwise. Too sentient. It mocked and whispered words of dark encouragement that even a soul as pure as she found difficult to ignore.

The man in her dungeons had shown no inclination to want the 'curse' back and she couldn't blame him. His eyes had been so alive and yet so _dead_. Whatever the curse was, it had broken that man long ago and now it was working to break _her_.

"_But not before I broke your father. He was weak. You don't have to be."_

Damn the voice! "Shut up." Zelda hissed in vehemence- her perfect, pink lips curling back to bare white teeth where she laid upon her bed, haunted. Ever haunted. She only wanted it to go away.

Blissfully, it seemed to take mercy upon her. Or perhaps it was pity. She was exhausted- the mental strain was too much. As she let her eyelids droop, her calm facade broke and a single tear trailed down her cheek. Then a second, a third...

The princess cried herself to sleep.

Outside, the wind howled ominously. Clouds knotted together, covering over the stars and the bright, friendly moon. It started to rain.

* * *

She didn't go to the prisoner in the morning despite knowing he must have been hungry. It was the day of her coronation and she, though selfish as it was, didn't need his dark words marring her heart on that already dreary day. Zelda was strong, but even she could only take so much. Between that man and the voices, they were sure to drive her to the brink, and perhaps beyond. Damn them both. She _would_ rise beyond it. A princess of Hyrule did not lay down and take what was dished out to her without giving back an equal and as Hellish fight. Damn them. Damn them straight to the Twilight Realm.

"You're beautiful, my queen." Her maid, Ella, gushed.

Zelda turned an amused smile on her. "Not your queen yet, Ella dear."

"But soon. And you'll take the crown looking just as radiant as your grandmother. Your father, goddesses rest his soul, he was a handsome man the day of his coronation. But your grandmother... her portrait is a beautiful one. There's nothing as can match a queen. Gorgeous- each and every one of you." The old woman gave her cheeks a pat.

For as used to compliments as a princess needed to be, those words made even Zelda blush. She turned to observe her reflection in the full body mirror; an intricate piece of furniture edged in mahogany. Zelda reached forward to smooth her golden dress. It was embroidered in thin strands of white gold. Her earrings were golden feathers carved so thin they very nearly resembled real ones. She truly did look like an angel. "And shall I have glass slippers like the princesses of fairy tales?" She went on to quip.

Ella giggled. "Only if you wish. Though I think you'd look a sight trying to walk in them."

Both women grinned at the thought.

* * *

This wasn't how it was supposed to happen. She chanted it over and over in her mind as creatures snatched her. Creatures with bodies as black as tar- oozing darkness. Beyond them stood a vision from a nightmare; tall and armoured. His helm better resembled a monster; stone, bulging eyes and tongue lolling out. Then he stepped forward.

"Princess Zelda of Hyrule." Even his voice sounded ill- evil. Zelda turned her face from him. A sickly, clawed hand reached out to grasp her chin. She gasped in pain as her head was roughly turned to face the man; forced to look at the visage of his nasty armour. She sneered. The Twili's shoulders bounced in silent mirth. His fingers left her face to trail down her neck, her collar bone... then between her breasts, heaving with anger.

All around her soldiers lay dead or dying. The world had been plunged into a strangely chaotic realm where bits of the dimension broke away in the form of black specks and drifted upward to the sky; absorbed by the ever present cloud cover. "What have you done to my Hyrule?" The princess spat. Beside her, the priest who had been given the honour of crowning her lay dead- blood pouring from a gaping, gruesome chest wound. Her crown lay covered in his blood upon the stone floor of the castle chapel. His hand was upon it and eyes stared unseeing- open wide in surprise and fear. Zelda couldn't look at him. Father Alexander had been a _good_ man.

"I haven't done anything it doesn't deserve." Quick as a flash his hand was off her chest and he'd grasped the fingers of her right hand. Wrenching it up, for a moment he took pleasure in touching her white glove, though was soon to rip it off. Turning her hand over, he looked at the glowing mark of the triforce. "Well, well. Greedy, aren't you? Two pieces!" He cackled with glee. "I'll take one now... the other later." He hadn't the power to remove both at the same time.

Zelda's eyes widened. "Two?!" How had she missed it? Suddenly the pieces fell together in her mind and the holder of Wisdom _knew_. Power. The one that talked evil to her... it was Power. But how had her father gotten it? How had _she_ gotten it? Before she could contemplate it further, a searing pain ripped through her body. The tangy taste of blood assaulted her. She'd bit her tongue. Then, she screamed.


End file.
